Loki's Punishment
by Nuadha
Summary: Following his murderous actions on Midgard, Loki is punished in a manner befitting a god.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Avengers, nor do I financially profit from this fanfiction. However, Norse mythology is fair game.

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He awoke, and Yggdrasil, the embodiment of life, coloured the four corners of Loki's vision. It's massive limbs, wider than any of the humans' so-called skyscrapers, sprouted from an unseen centre and sprawled outwards and upwards, rooting themselves in faraway lands. He tugged at the enchanted snake guts that served as his bindings and squinted upwards from the crag where he lay chained, but he could make out no leaves or flowers. He was at the very bottom of the world tree, where even the Allfather tread with care.

Loki mused over his bindings. He felt the power of Asgard stream through them, ebbing, flowing and disrupting his magic. But, he noted gleefully, they could be broken. The pattern was predictable and with a mere few minutes concentration it could be exploited against the bindings themselves, causing them to fray and rupture. Freedom, and revenge, would soon follow.

What a pathetic punishment, he thought, as a sneer settled amidst his features. No doubt this was the beginning of some kind of ridiculous lesson on the part of Odin, probably spurred on by his almost brother's foolhardy pleas for mercy. Like he sent Thor to Midgard to teach him humility, he would leave Loki at the roots of the tree of life to teach him the value of such. He snorted. Like the Allfather failed before, he would fail again, for Loki already knew the value of life and the rankings thereof and had resolved not to succumb to any soft-hearted, ill-conceived notions.

One of the limbs above him shifted and Loki started, the gut cutting into his wrists and arms. The limb writhed and scraped between the other roots. Looking carefully, he distinguished the mottled dark green scales of the shifting object from the dappled grey and brown that marked the trees roots. Nidhogg, the great serpent who fed on the roots of Yggdrasil, was on the move. So great was the creatures mass that Loki could not tell where it began or ended, nor where it was going. As his surprise faded, Loki felt a renewed urgency to break his bonds. Having such a creature find him bound and helpless would not do. He was certain that he could not defeat the serpent even unbound and he had not even a Chitauri force to sacrifice in order to make his escape.

He focused on the bindings, trying to pinpoint the patterns in the magical flow that made them so strong. Although he had not been blessed with the martial prowess that most Asgardians possessed, which in case of his almost brother would have been enough to break these bonds, his mind was keen and his magic second perhaps only to the Allfather. The pattern began to lay itself bare and Loki rejoiced. His revelry was short lived, however, as a distant hissing reached his ears and caused his concentration to break.

The noise grew and Loki opened his eyes. Streaming down the limbs of the tree were hundreds, if not thousands, of snakes. Their sizes and colours were innumerable and they blocked out the bark of the tree itself. They slithered over each other, their tongues flickering like flame and their hissing creating a cacophonous din that overpowered his ears. They came towards him, sliding onto the rocks where he lay, hissing all the while. Drawing nearer, they began to creep over him, covering his body with their cold, scaled forms.

Loki drew breaths in short, sharp heaves. If the Allfather thought he would be cowered by this mass of pulsating wyrms, then the old god was even more of a fool that Loki had thought. He would break his bonds and incinerate these vile creatures, leaving their rooting, charred corpses to the insects.

He ignored the wall of flesh writing above him and began to close his eyes once again so that he could concentrate on the gut bindings. But, as he did his line of vision crossed paths with a snake that sat on the rocky overhang just above him. The two looked at each other and Loki felt his head grow heavy. He tried to lift it, but found himself immobile. Panic swept through his body like ice as the snake opened its jaw. As the poison dripped from one of it's fangs he shut his eyes tightly. Moments later, Loki screamed.

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Loki didn't blink. Regrowing eyelids was a pain. The poison fell into his eyes and began burning away his constantly regenerating corneas. He thrashed about, causing the bindings to cut into his skin and the rock beneath him to creak. The rest of the snakes had long fled, leaving only his tormentor. As the pain receded, Loki looked up at the snake. There was little else he could do, as his head was still locked into position with that of the snakes. Odin's curse, no doubt.

Another droplet of poison appeared at the bottom of the creatures fangs and the substance began to pool. Loki tested his bonds. The once smooth gut rope was now frayed and slack. He could not concentrate long enough to attack it with magic, but, though he was not as strong as most, he was still a god and the very ground beneath him buckled under his weight. He would be free, eventually, and what he had come to know as life, pain, would follow for all the Nine Realms. No Asgardian, human hero, nor cosmic horror would stand against him.

The poison reached the tip of the snakes fangs and Loki, once again, prepared to renew his attack.


End file.
